Don't Be Dead
by Liz McCallus
Summary: The return of Sherlock Holmes to 221B Baker Street.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hiya, guys : ) I guess I haven't posted in a while, and that is because I have had an incredibly long case of Writer's Block that is IMPOSSIBLE to get rid of. But I recently finished watching BBC's Sherlock, and this is apparently what I do with my post-Sherlock angst. *I don't know what I even **_**do **_**with my life***

**I listened to "Doomsday" from the Doctor Who soundtrack while writing this. It helps the mood.**

**This might be quite short. But I didn't feel need for it to be long.**

John Waston drowsily opened his eyes, and sat up in bed. It only took him a few seconds to realize what today was. Today was _the _day. It had been 365 days since his best friend, his partner in solving crime, his everything…had died. And John could barely face that fact.

He hardly felt anything as he got up, got dressed, and walked out the door of 221B Baker Street. Hailing a cab, he tried not to think of what he would have to say when he reached his destination.

"London Cemetery, please." he said as shakily as he could, and stared out the window as the cab started forward. John wanted to punch all of those people, out on the streets. They were happy. They had no clue what today was. They were so _happy. _And John couldn't stand it. Today, they should all be sad. But the legacy of Sherlock Holmes had faded as fast as it came. In a heartbeat.

What seemed like hours later, John pulled himself out of thoughts when he heard the cabbie say "London Cemetery, here we are. I'm sorry for your loss, whoever it might be." The cabbie tipped his hat, John, paid him, and slowly walked into the cemetery. Oh God, what was he even doing? _All I'm doing is visiting a dead man's grave. For no reason. Why am I doing this? _He thought, and shakily stepped in front of a shiny, black tombstone. On it were the words _Sherlock Holmes. _John took a deep breath.

"I don't even know…what to say to you, Sherlock. You're dead. But why? _Why _did you have to leave me here, alone and without you? Alone here to sit and die. WHY did you do this?" John could barely choke out the plea before the tears came. Wet, sloppy tears that ran down the army doctor's face and dampened his skin. Before he realized what he was doing, John had slid down next to Sherlock's grave and wept. He wept and wept, till there were no more tears to come. John wiped his face as dry as it would become, and slowly got up. He faced Sherlock's grave again.

"Sherlock, I've asked you this before…and I'll ask it again. Please, Sherlock. Don't…be…dead." the last word was quiet and choked out. And before he could cry again, John turned and limped away from his best friend's grave.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"John, dear, do you fancy maybe going for tea later? A new place opened downtown. Looks quite alright." Mrs. Hudson scurried around John's flat, talking nonsense, as if Sherlock was merely away solving a case, and not…dead. John could tell she was struggling to sustain a steady voice.

"What? Oh, yeah sounds lovely. Maybe later." John said absently, and continued staring at Sherlock's last newspaper article. John laughed softly as he glanced at Sherlock's hat. He grinned as a small memory, from what seemed like so long ago, came back.

"_It's got flaps. Ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John!" Sherlock snapped and hurled the hat at his friend._

John swallowed, hard. Sherlock had hated that hat. Before he could start crying again, he put the article down and let out a heavy, moaning sigh. If this one year had been so harsh, what were the next going to be like? Just as he was considering this, he heard a knock at the door. Probably someone wanting a sob story on poor old John Watson. John slowly got up and went down the stairs, and opened the door. What he saw made him freeze.

"John. You…you asked me to be dead, so I'm not."

Sherlock Holmes. At his door. Alive. _No. _It couldn't be him.

"Sherlock…" was all John got out before he clenched his fist and punched his partner in the face, hard. John didn't even have any time to think about what he'd done before he felt Sherlock's fist collide with his cheek.

"What the _hell _was that for? How are you even bloody alive?" John yelled, holding his hand to his face. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"John, you punch me, I punch you. It's that simple. Now, do you want me to tell you the whole story and waste two hours, or do you want to go solve a good old case and be done with it? Your choice." Sherlock's voice was serious, but John could see a tiny smile tug at his lips. He hurled himself into Sherlock, hugging him tightly. His best friend didn't even hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around John and embrace him back.

"I don't care how you're alive, or why you came back, but _thank you._" John whispered into Sherlock's hair.


	2. Quick Note

**A/N Okay, ya'll. Since I published this story, I've gotten one review and a bajillion Favorites and Story Alerts. Don't get me wrong, I love getting them. Bu this story has a low chance of getting another chapter-UNLESS YOU ALL GIVE ME REVIEWS FOR INSPIRATION! I mostly decide whether or not to update a story based on the response that my audience gets. Low reviews=no update, high reviews=update! So if you all want a second addition to this story, then send me reviews with critiques, ideas, praise (selfish Lizzy FTW) and if I think you guys liked it enough, I'll update it! So instead of just pushing a button and letting FFn dot net tell me you liked it, tell me yourself in a review. They honestly make. My. Day. Mkay? Lots of love, Lizzy**


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